


And Fired The Shot Heard Round The World

by Sam_Nook



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1700s, Colony, Forgiveness, Freedom, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Past, Revolutionary War, WWII, fight, histober2020, inktober but its writing, inktober2020, present day, prompt was early 1700s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Nook/pseuds/Sam_Nook
Summary: "And what exactly are you afraid of happening? Your people are poor; they are not fighters. I have thousands of troops throughout the colonies. You and whatever leader you come up with have no idea what it takes to be an independent country. I have heard the whispers in the streets, and I have seen your people, and I have taken into consideration what could happen. There is no threat to the Kingdom of Great Britain, which I remind you that you are apart of."
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia)
Kudos: 12





	And Fired The Shot Heard Round The World

**Author's Note:**

> Histober/Inktober 2020 Day Nine: Early 1700s
> 
> Hey, I have an old story that has been heavily edited and changed to fit the theme. (The story started from the first flashback which would fit in the early 1700s prompt). I hope you like it. I was busy as today, the 9th, was my 19th birthday. I actually just finished watching Hamilton. I hope this is enough to satisfy.

Despite the parties and fireworks that the day promised, Alfred often found himself the most thoughtful and reflective on the Fourth of July. After all, it was the day that defined him as a nation. It was one of the things that made him the land of the free.

He didn't know when it started, but he made a habit of traveling the nation and observing what was going on for years. It helped him think when he was at places that were meaningful to him. He started his day visiting the first place he really called home—the small cabin in the hills of Virginia. 

The house that England built for him was small in front of trees and blue skies. It rested under the protection of the giant dogwood Trees that had been planted years ago. The house had seen better days, and Alfred noted that he'd have to head out on one of his free days and do some remodeling and other fixes. Still, it stood proudly under the sun even after the centuries had passed. 

To him, this house represented his childhood. After being found by England, he had been raised here even after the other began leaving to attend to other matters. It was the start of his tale as a country—the beginning of his path to freedom.

After standing on the property's outskirts and observing the quiet scene, he pushed past the gate and headed down the dirt path that led to the worn front door. He didn't enter the house, he hasn't in decades but instead stopped at the doorway. His attention then turned to the flowering branches of the two Dogwood trees overhead. The wind brushed light pink petals from their stems, and they danced around him until they settled on the grass. With a hint of amusement, he compared the day to another that happened lifetimes ago. 

~~

The sun was setting in the sky. However, it had already been hidden behind the towering green trees for almost an hour. Alfred had just finished dinner, and he eagerly waited for Arthur to carry the cage that held the small brown bird. Arthur had told him it was a sparrow, one that had fallen from its nest and hurt its wing. 

It seemed like hours before Arthur had stepped out of the door with the small cage in his arms. His smile was soft, and it seemed to soften as he watched Alfred for a moment. He set the pen down in the grass and herded Alfred to the other side to not frighten the animal. After all, it was still a wild animal despite the few weeks it had spent in his house. 

"Now Alfred," he started as he kneeled next to the cage, "tell me why we are letting the bird go." 

Alfred followed suit and plopped onto the ground, with far less grace than Arthur, and peered into the cage. "Because the bird can't fly. He's stuck in there." Alfred beamed at Arthur's proud gaze. 

Alfred was a quick learner, when he was interested in what he was learning at least, Arthur was pleased to discover that when he had started teaching him. 

"Indeed, I want you to remember that." The older male spoke before reaching for the cage door and opening it. He tenderly lifted the bird and set it on the ground. Alfred leaned forward in interest, and his smile widened as it hopped towards him. 

~~

Alfred turned and finally unlocked the door. It creaked open, and Alfred stepped into the dark room. The inside of the cabin was composed of four rooms, and besides the covered furniture, it was practically empty. Anything he felt was worth it had already been packed away in a basement or attic of one of his other houses. It had long been replaced with electricity, but Alfred wasn't sure if it worked. Besides, the light from the open door was enough for him to see well enough. 

Curiously, he walked towards one of the nearby covered furniture. He grabbed the cloth and yanked it away, stirring up decades worth of dust. He choked a bit and turned away; he probably should have thought that out better. 

With the cover gone, it uncovered a wooden oak table. The table itself wasn't extraordinary, but it was the chess set that sat on the table that caught Alfred's attention. The pieces were scattered across the table, most likely due to the cloth being thrown on it. Except for one piece, the white queen stood proudly next to the fallen black king. 

~~

Over a century had passed since he officially became a colony of The Kingdom of Great Britain. He had grown in Arthur's care and especially so in his absence. As time past, Alfred began to grow quicker. He shot up like a tree and grew stronger, the colonial girls liked that, but he spent most of his time studying or working. He wasn't sure what drove him, some burning desire that he knew he wanted more.

As he thought about it more, he knew what he wanted. His people, yes, his people, were becoming restless. He could hear their murmurs of rebellion in his ears; he could feel their fingers twitching for the trigger. He knew the situation would explode soon, so he prepared himself. 

He prepared himself to fight for his independence, his people, his land. 

He learned how to fight, learned how to lead, and learned that it would take everything to win the eventual fight. By the time England had returned, he was confident he was prepared.

At least, prepared for everything but telling his caretaker what would happen. He wasn't sure how to do that. So he waited, he was sure that England had figured out about these whispers and filtered dreams of freedom, but he didn't say anything about it during his stay. Alfred waited until the opportunity presented itself. 

It happened during a chess game. Arthur was a mastermind at chess, he was at most games, and Alfred was not. He was impulsive, and because he was only a young teen, he still lacked experience and the growth to combat Arthur's quick wit. But Alfred had grown not just physically over the years of his caretaker's absence; his mind had also sharpened. He had spent hours with Washington and other leaders during the French and Indian War, and he spent hours pouring over books and maps. He wasn't a child anymore; he had long passed that phase in his mind. 

The game was long, and it seemed that Arthur would gain another win in the books. As it neared evening time, Alfred's quick moves began to corner the few players that Arthur had left on the board. Alfred's confidence grew as he lifted his white queen and brought it down softly on an open square. 

"Checkmate."

Arthur was quiet, and he studied the board before them. He was wearing his red jacket, the one he always wore when he came and left, and his golden hair shone in the candlelight behind him. He gave Alfred a calculated look before gently setting his king down on its side. 

"You have grown." He murmured, quiet as Alfred took his seat once again. Alfred sat on the edge of it, his nerves burning, and his mind rushing. This had to be the time. He had proven himself to Arthur in one way; no one ever beat him in chess. 

"I have. I've grown up, right? I've held my own with your army, and I fought off the French. I can take care of myself and my people, too. I'm like you. I'm strong."

Arthur laughed softly, "Don't get ahead of yourself, lad. You have grown taller and smarter, but you are still a child. You're only a century old. You have all the time in the world to be a child. Take it."

"But..." He started before Arthur cut him off. 

"Alfred, there is no shame in being young. I was a child for centuries, and I had to grow up fast because I had no one. You have me; you don't need to worry about protecting your land or fighting for yourself. That is my job, have I not protected you since you came into my care?"

Alfred bit his lip, his hands tugging nervously at the hem of his untucked shirt. "That's not what I'm talking about, England." 

Arthur's brows furrowed, and he leaned in closer to his colony, his eyes searching for any hint to what was on Alfred's mind. "Well, no need keeping it a secret, Alfred. Spill it out."

Alfred inhaled and straightened on the wooden stool before speaking. "They are restless. They want more than your king is willing to give. I fear that something will happen, and if it does, I don't think I can be on your side." 

The brief moment of silence was terrifying. It made Alfred want to ask Arthur for forgiveness and forget everything, but he stood firm to his belief. If he faltered now, he wouldn't have the heart to fight to the end. 

"And what exactly are you afraid of happening? Your people are poor; they are not fighters. I have thousands of troops throughout the colonies. You and whatever leader you come up with have no idea what it takes to be an independent country. I have heard the whispers in the streets, and I have seen your people, and I have taken into consideration what could happen. There is no threat to the Kingdom of Great Britain, which I remind you that you are apart of."

Alfred shook his head, his frustration growing as he listened to Arthur talked. He didn't understand, and he knew that would happen. He was trying to protect everyone from getting hurt. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he had already started; he couldn't give up now. 

"England, don't underestimate my people. They are capable of more things than you think, and I don't want you to be the black king that fell alone as the caged bird spreads his wings." He glanced back at the chessboard and sighed, "you can't keep then caged forever. You taught me that."

~~

Alfred picked up the black piece and sighed; he had stood above a fallen king in the end. He had watched England sob on his knees, his heart aching as he watched him sob before he turned around and walked away. The caged bird had gained his freedom. 

He shoved the chess piece in his pocket, and he threw the cover back over the table. He glanced around the dark room one more time before deciding to head for the door. He was proud that his people were able to fight for what was their right, but he had hoped that they would have been able to do it without a war. Unfortunately, it was the only and best option for his people. 

He closed the door and locked it, determined to forget about this place until the next time he reflected on his path to freedom. That meant some Fourth of July in the future. 

He quickly left after that and headed to the next stop he had in mind. His next destination wasn't a specific place. Instead, it was a random dock on the coast of New York. He walked through the sand and onto the wooden planks that made up the small dock. He walked to the edge and sat down, pretending that he could see England's cliffs as the sea sprayed up into the air and dampened his hair and clothes. His thoughts turned to the first time he had met England face to face after the Revolution. 

~~

A decade had passed since the end of the Revolutionary War. A decade had passed since he had signed the Treaty of Paris and headed home to figure out what his people would do. In that decade, a lot had passed. His country had been formed, a government established, and he had a president. Unfortunately, fears of another war were high as tensions rose between France and England once again. It didn't help that his country and people were being dragged into this conflict. 

Alfred and his government knew that they were in no shape to fight a war. They owed a lot of money, and they weren't stable on their feet just yet. They needed more time before dragging themselves into another war, especially when it came to powerful European empires. That's why he had stepped onto the ship from New York nearly six weeks ago. They had landed only an hour ago and were waiting to be escorted to their place of residence. 

Alfred stared in wonder at the sights; he had never been to Europe before, let alone London. He was so distracted by the sights of the city that he nearly missed what Arthur was saying. He jerked around and faced him with a look of surprise. He still wore that red coat and a cold, calculated look that he seemed to wear when he wanted to remain neutral. 

"England." Alfred greeted politely. He tugged at his dark blue coat with a nervous hum, ignoring the group of people talking. In the last decade, Alfred had grown to meet Arthur's height. Alfred could tell it unnerved the other as they spoke. 

"America." The atmosphere was tense between the two as they stood there. Arthur studied him carefully. "Welcome to London. Follow me; we have much to discuss." He added as he turned around and swiftly moved towards the carriage to carry them to their destination. Alfred stared after him for a moment before hurrying after him. 

They settled into the carriage, and the tension seemed to settle with them. They were quiet for a moment before Alfred finally spoke. "I uh -- how are things?" 

He wanted to bring up the revolution. He tried to apologize, not for the revolution but for hurting Arthur, but he knew how Arthur worked. He pushed the things away that hurt him and burrowed behind his facade of solitude. Alfred would have to wait until Arthur brought up the topic himself unless he wanted an angry Englishman. He wanted to be friends with England, not enemies. It would be beneficial for the both of them, especially his own country. 

Arthur regarded him curiously, "The same. High tensions in Europe, as usual. Your brother is well. He's currently visiting." 

"Matthew is here?" Alfred paused; he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Matthew was his brother, but they had parted on the wrong foot. Matthew had been angry with his actions. There had been a lot of yelling and fighting between the two last time they had met. "I'll make sure I stay away from him. He wasn't too happy about..." He trailed off, not willing to say the words.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "The War of Independence? Yes, I know that. He lectured me as well. I do regret dragging him into our problem. Nevertheless, he has forgiven you, and I have done the same. Let the past stay in the past and move on." 

The hurt in his eyes told Alfred otherwise. 

~~

His last stop was Yorktown. Well, he had a few more stops that defined this relationship with England. Still, they were in Europe, and he'd instead not hop over there and back even for remembrance's sake. Besides, it was getting close to the time when his party would start, so he figured Yorktown would be a great ending place for his trip down memory lane.

Alfred soon found himself just outside the visitor center of the battlefield. The place was full of people who had come here to see the site where the country won its freedom. It was a miraculous victory for the Americans. 

He decided that he'd walk along the paths until he found a quieter spot to think. He did enjoy that people were here, especially on this important day, but part of him wished that there was a bit more peace. Perhaps he should've gone here early in the morning. Thankfully, he soon found an empty bench in a quieter area to sit on and reflect. 

~~

The next time England or America ever brought up the Revolutionary War was centuries later. They'd both had a few centuries to settle the relationship between them and themselves. Hence, it wasn't a surprise that Arthur finally spoke about it. 

The world was in another world war, it was late 1942, and they were in North Africa. Alfred wasn't sure where exactly as they had been advancing since he first joined his troops in battle. The sun had just set, and the temperature had begun to drop as the night fell upon them. Alfred was lucky; he had the giant bomber jacket that was designed to keep him warm. Most of his troops weren't as fortunate, so he did his best to help them stay warm.

It was nearly midnight when he made it back to the tent that he and England were meant to share. Their leaders had decided that it would be safer and more efficient to have the two nations share quarters as they advanced closer to Italy. Despite the tension that arose between them in the first few weeks, the experience hadn't been too bad. Besides, it made his personal goal of watching out for England much easier. 

It was that night he found Arthur still upon his cot. Arthur usually tried to go to sleep earlier, but Alfred knew that they both didn't fall asleep for hours with all the things going on. But this time, Arthur was still up, his small reading light was on, and he read a book. There was a map spread over his blanket, and Alfred had a suspicion that he had been trying to plan out their next moves. Even after all these centuries, Arthur still had a mind made for battle strategy.

"Hey, England." Alfred sat down on his identical cot and tugged off his boots. He watched Arthur with a curious smile before asking. "What're you reading?"

With a sigh, Arthur bookmarked and closed the book before setting it on the map. "We need to talk."

"Oh, Okay. I didn't do something wrong, did I? Is it because you had to fix the tear in my pants, is it? Thank you for that, by the way."

He shook his head, a look of uncertainty, and Alfred could detect a hint of insecurity in the frown. "No, I've thought that because we've grown so close, at least our countries have, that if we are to be this close between the two of us, then I can no longer hold past grievances against you." He paused and lifted the book to show the other the title, "I've been reading Common Sense, you'd recognize the book. I've been trying to understand your thoughts, and this was the first step." 

Realization dawned on Alfred. Arthur was talking about the Revolution. He had no clue that was a lie. He knew Arthur still held that grudge, but he didn't know that Arthur was trying to forgive him. He started to speak, but Arthur cut him off with a glare. 

"I am trying, Alfred. You know forgiving is not my forte, but had I been in your situation, I would have done the same. I -- We've both done some growing up since then, that's all I'm trying to say." 

There were many unsaid words despite their long conversation that night, and Alfred knew that, but if that was all Arthur was willing to say for the day, he decided that was just fine. After all, he'd finally be able to be friends with England without the elephant in the room. 

~~

Alfred had been startled out of his thoughts and memories when someone sat next to him. He turned to glance at them, and to his surprise, he found England sitting next to him. He had worn his usual white collared shirt with a red sweater vest and a blue tie, his forehead was damp, and a few drops of sweat clung to his pale cheeks. He was smiling, something Alfred was not familiar with on this day. 

"Do close your mouth, Alfred, you'll catch a fly that way," Arthur said, a teasing hint in his eyes. He knew why Alfred was shocked, but it was still fun to tease him a bit. "Thought you wouldn't see me, did you? Surprise, I suppose. It is your birthday, and I ought to show up for the party you invited me to."

"But I thought you were --"

"Sick in bed? Oh no, that ended years ago. I just never dared to come out here, but I suppose better late than never." He laughed gently, and Alfred smiled. 

"How did you find me here?"

"Oh, that was simple. I came here myself for the same reason you came, to think, and as I walked down a path, I thought I saw a familiar flash of a bomber jacket and blond hair, so I followed you here. I didn't want to interrupt you; I know that this day is just as much as a reflective to you as it is for me."

"Oh yeah, I guess I do kind of stand out with this jacket. It's not the twentieth century anymore." Alfred picked at the hem of the worn jacket and smiled. "We've grown up so much since then, haven't we? I mean, even from the last time we talked about this we have. I was just thinking about that day. You in a tent with that book in your hands as you told me you were going to try to forgive me. I'm glad you started, y' know..."

"It takes time to heal from something you consider hurtful. Much like a physical wound, mental and emotional ones can heal, but they take much longer. Your mind and heart are powerful things, and it can take centuries to heal the hurt that has been made. Thankfully, we have that time, and thankfully you've given me that time. You've been very patient with me, Alfred, and that truly does mean a lot." Arthur's proud smile made Alfred feel almost like a child again. Back when Arthur gave him that smile after he did something useful, he learned how to read or clean the house. He hadn't seen that smile since his childhood, and it struck him that he had been truly forgiven. 

"Well, when it matters most, the best thing to do is let time run its course. I guess this was just the right time for you. Besides, I know you. You pretend you are harsh, but you're just as human as the rest of us, and you've been hurt a lot, so it would be unfair if I tried to rush you into forgiving me when you weren't ready. You're not me, and that's probably a good thing. We need a rational mind in our friendship anyway."

They both laughed, and a comfortable silence fell upon them. Here they were sitting on a battlefield that tore them apart, content with each other. This place had been a representation of the hurt and mistrust in their relationship. Now it stood as an emblem of forgiveness; time healed all memories. It had come a long time since that rainy day in that war. Despite the time it took to get to this moment, neither of them would change it.

When they left, Alfred left one thing on the bench; the black king.


End file.
